


At home with Beadick

by phillipa_gordon



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: AU, Brownies, Cohabitation, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Excessive mention of baked goods, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Humor, Living Together, Overuse Of Parentheses, did i mention this is fluffy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9583436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phillipa_gordon/pseuds/phillipa_gordon
Summary: Ben has decided that he is going to be the best houseguest in the history of houseguests. Out of the pure goodness of his heart, he is going to be helpful and obliging and just generally a model of exactly what a guest should be. Even Bea has been impressed at his efforts, though she expresses her unwilling approval mainly through scowls and snarky commentary.Except for that time he makes carbonara. She actually says ‘Good job with the cooking, Dickface’, although her nose does wrinkle up as she says it.He refuses to think of that expression as adorable.(He fails).ORThe AU where Ben has to stay with the Dukes for four weeks and accidentally falls into Domestic Bliss with Bea. It’s pretty much as fluffy as it sounds.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work is greatly inspired by TroubleIWant’s Teen Wolf fic ‘Six Letter Word for Romance’, which I absolutely did not squeal while reading. Nuh-uh. I’ll have you know the noises I made were extremely dignified and ladylike, thank-you-very-much. But definitely go and read it if you haven’t already!  
> Anyway, the idea was just so good and fits so well with Bea and Ben’s dynamic that I just felt it had to be done. Hopefully I’ve done it some sort of justice.  
> All errors are my own

‘Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening.’

‘Benedick, you’re going. End of story. Besides, I don’t see the problem, you and Leo get along well.’

‘Leo, yes! Hero, I could cope with, though I’ll need to book a dental appointment from spending time with all that sickly sweetness. But  _ Beatrice?! _ Hell no! She’s literally the spawn of Satan! I’m still convinced she’s part basilisk, with all her death glaring! I’m not staying with her! She’ll murder me in my bed!’

Ben’s mother levels him a look that falls somewhere between ‘don’t be rude about girls’ and ‘if she’s the spawn of Satan you should get along well’. Don’t ask him how he knows this; he’s just a genius.

‘Your father and I are going to be away for four weeks, and I would much prefer it if you stayed with someone during that time. I know you want some independence, so that’s why you’ll be staying with the Dukes, so you’ll still have company but it’ll be more like a flat-share than anything. It’ll be good practice for next year. You’re going.’ she says with the air of final infinite finality that only mothers seem to be able to achieve.

‘You’ll be sorry when you come back to find me in a box! Of the coffin variety! She’s going to eat me, like a bloody praying mantis or something, then bury me, then dig me up so she can kill me again. Please…’ he puts on his best puppy dog eyes, ‘can’t I just stay here?’

‘No.’ His mother looks amused, but unimpressed. ‘I already spoke to Leo and he’s all for it. It’s all organised, and there’s no getting out of it.’

As she turns to leave the kitchen, she pauses, smirking. ‘Oh, and don’t praying mantises only eat the males after sex? No funny business while we’re away, do you hear me? If there is, she has my blessing to eat you alive.’

Ben decides then and there that the only person in Auckland more evil than Beatrice is his mother. Though it’s still a close call.

*          *          *          *          *

The only reason that Ben doesn’t whinge and whine and run away when his parents drop him off at the Duke’s place is that, contrary to what either Beatrice or his mother says, he has  _ manners _ . He even manages to smile through his mother thanking Leo for his generosity, although admittedly, that was helped along by the presence of Beatrice, whom (he has discovered), has facial expressions that are inversely proportional to his own. The more he smiles, the more she resembles Grumpy Cat.

It’s the small pleasures in life, right?

*          *          *          *          *

‘Bea, we have to give him the Wi-Fi password. How else is he supposed to do his homework?’ Leo sounds more amused than anything, much to Beatrice’s chagrin (if her scowl is anything to go by). Ben mentally does an interpretive dance of triumph.

‘Why should I care if he doesn’t do his homework?! Not my problem!’

Leo sounds stern now. ‘This is ridiculous, just give him the password!’

‘No! What if he uploads one of his videos about serial bird-killing?! I’m not having that rubbish using up our internet for the month!’

‘Fine! Ben, do you promise not to upload any videos while you’re here?’

‘But what will my loyal viewers do? They’ll be so upset if—‘

Beatrice snorts. ‘I’m sure the ghosts and tumbleweed will miss you Ben, but I am not putting up with seeing videos of you while I’m stuck under the same roof as well.’

‘I thought you didn’t watch my videos?’

There’s a beat of silence. Then:

‘Fine, I’ll give you the damn password, but if I hear one word from anyone that you’ve uploaded another video while you’re here, I will make sure you die a slow and painful death by flamingos.’

Despite her stipulations, Ben takes the colour in her face to mean he won that argument.

*          *          *          *          *

So, Ben has decided that he is going to be the best houseguest in the history of houseguests. Out of the pure goodness of his heart, he is going to be helpful and obliging and just generally a model of exactly what a guest should be. He’s been doing dishes, cleaning the shower, and even cooking some of the meals, earning him smiles from Hero and Leo’s enthusiastic approval (particularly for his cooking—Ben has never met such a hopeless bachelor as Leo).  Even Bea has been impressed at his efforts, though she expresses her unwilling approval mainly through scowls and snarky commentary.

Except for that time he makes carbonara. She actually says ‘Good job with the cooking, Dickface’, although her nose does wrinkle up as she says it.

He  _ refuses _ to think of that expression as adorable.

(He fails).

*          *          *          *          *

The thing is….

…well…

It’s not actually that bad living with the Dukes.

Not that he admits that to anyone, of course. It’s just that once he gets past that first week and he and Bea stop deliberately trying to piss each other off… it’s actually really nice. Well, not  _ nice  _ nice; the only one in the household who is sweet all the time is obviously Hero, and she’s spending so much time over at Claudio’s that she’ s barely even there. But Beatrice stops being mean to him, at least not in a way that’s actually meant to hurt him. She still complains loudly when he tries to steal the TV remote, and he complains when she finishes the last of the ice-cream, and she calls him ‘Dickface’ all the time, but there just isn’t the same intent behind it.

It’s probably all just a ploy, lulling him into a false sense of security before ripping his head off.

Yeah, nothing’s really changed.

*          *          *          *          *

Leo’s out at the gym on Saturday (seriously, does the guy ever give himself a day off?!), and Hero is over at Claud’s  _ yet again _ because apparently being disgustingly adorable has no curfew. Bea is meeting up with Meg to plan for  _ something _ and so Ben has the house to himself, which means he can rewatch Dr Who on the big screen without anyone there to judge him for crying when Rose gets trapped in a parallel universe. He’s just settling into the second episode when he hears the front door open and shut.

‘ _ Honey, I’m home _ !’ There’s only one person in the world who can inject that much sarcasm into three words (in a bloody kiwi accent, no less).

‘I thought you and Meg were hanging out?!’

There’s a moment of silence, then: ‘I thought Hero was home.’

‘Nah, she’s at Claud’s. I take it Meg was busy?’

Beatrice stomps into the room and sits down heavily on the other end of the couch. ‘Yes, if by “busy” you mean “getting busy with Robbie”.’

‘Ahh. Well, I was just about to get started on the popcorn, if you want some?’

She eyes him suspiciously for a moment, before nodding curtly. ‘O-kay. It’d better not me that caramel shit though. Butter popcorn is far superior.’

‘What a brilliant suggestion! Caramel popcorn it is!’ He leaps to his feet just in time to dodge her swatting him with a pillow, and if he bickers with her a little more than is strictly necessary, no-one needs to know.

It’s worth it, anyway, for the way her shoulders relax gradually as she forgets about Meg and starts making a snarky commentary on Dr Who. She doesn’t even comment when he sniffles through that last episode, and when he chances a glance at her, he’s pretty sure her eyes are glistening too.

They watch the 1960s version of The Day of the Triffids after that, and agree that it’s possibly one of the worst movies of all time. Bea gets particularly riled up about how the Triffids can be dissolved in seawater (‘ _Seriously, what is this bullshit?! They’re fucking plants!_ ’) and Ben may or may not fall a little bit in love with her angry face.

Ahem. He didn’t just think that. He just…appreciates her nuanced film critiquing skills.

Yeah, that’s it.

(It really isn’t.) 

*          *          *          *          *

‘Oi Ben, have you seen my…’ Bea gesticulates vaguely at the coat rack, rummaging through her schoolbag.

‘Yeah, your umbrella’s in the laundry, I put it in there last night to dry.’

She straightens up. ‘Oh, thanks Dickface.’ She leaves the room.

‘Whaaaaat was that?!’ Claudio is looking at him as though he has sprouted another head.

‘What? Beatrice was looking for her umbrella and I told it where it is.’

Claud is still looking dubious ‘Bro, you just finished her sentence, or read her mind or some shit! That’s a couple thing.’

It’s Ben’s turn to be incredulous. ‘What, me and Bea? We are not a couple! Did you not just hear her call me Dickface?!’

‘Yeah, but it’s you guys, so that was a term of endearment. You don’t flirt like normal people.’

‘We don’t  _ flirt _ , I resent that accusation! Take it back!’

Claud grins.

Traitor.

‘No way, man. You’re into her, don’t even try to deny it.’

Ben splutters, feels his face turn hot, and decides that shutting his mouth is probably the best option right now. Beatrice strides back into the room, reminding him about leftovers for dinner and shouting ‘See ya later, Dickface,’ over her shoulder as she leaves. Claud just smirks at him as he spreads his homework out on the coffee table.

‘See, you’re domestic now, like an old married couple! Actually you’ve always been like that, but now you’re the kind of couple that would still have obnoxiously loud sex at 70 just to piss off the neighbours.’ Ben glares at him.

He needs new friends.

*          *          *          *          *

The problem is…well…he can kind of see what Claud was saying. They really do act like an old married couple. And, well, he’s not gonna lie, Beatrice is gorgeous, and she can keep up with him and argues back and…

Oh crap.

He’s in love.

_ He’s in love! _

When did this happen?!

Oh crap. It happened ages ago. Like, even if he ignores the bit where he kind of had a massive crush on her when he was 14, those… _ feelings _ …have been happening for weeks now. Long before he came to stay with her. How did he even fall in love without realising it?!

He stews on this revelation for a while, before deciding that he’s nothing if not adaptable. He can work with this!

He’s going to woo her.

Aww yeah!

*          *          *          *          *

‘Balthy! My man, my bro, my buddy! I have been wracking my sizable brain and have found inspiration for a new song! I am your saviour, dragging you out of your rut of musical writer’s block with a single stroke! Oh, and hello, by the way.’

Balthazar blinks owlishly up at him with much the same expression of shock as he once wore when Pedro dressed up in a tutu for the school production in year 10. Ah, good times.

‘You’ve got ideas for lyrics?’

‘Yes, yes I have! This new phase of my life has opened up new vistas of opportunity and experience, and I feel ready to share them with the world!’

‘This isn’t like that other time, is it? ‘cause I’m really not your man for angry songs, as much as I liked “Beatrice is a B” for a song title.’

‘…I never said it was about…no, wait, never mind; the point is, I have lyrics and I need your help to make them into a musical masterpiece.’

‘Oh, okay. Music room at lunch, then? We can give it a shot on the ukulele, if you like.’ He smiles earnestly, bless his little cotton socks. Ben still always half expects Balthy to be constantly surrounded by woodland creatures or puppies or something, after that one time they went to the zoo and all the butterflies in the butterfly house flocked to him. He doesn’t care what the keeper said, it wasn’t chemical signals from Balthy’s hair gel; it was his special magnetic powers as the very first gay Disney prince.

Ahem. He digresses.

* * * * *

By most measures, the songwriting goes well. After 4 hours of writing and scribbling out and ripping his hair out in frustration and soothing words from Balth, explaining that good songs take time, they break out the brownies that Ben cooked the other day. At this point, Ben has the genius idea of a rapping interlude (because nothing says ‘love’ better than a good rap), and two hours later they have a passable take of the entire song. When Ben gets home he crashes on the couch and falls asleep almost immediately.

Who knew this wooing gig was so exhausting?

He wakes up to the sound of Beatrice clattering around the kitchen. She glances at him as he blinks up at her drowsily, before sinking down on the couch next to him and shoves a large slice of pizza at him. He almost faceplants as he tries to sit up, but saves it elegantly by posing dramatically as he rights himself.

Beatrice snorts at him. ‘Smooth. You been studying for Physics?’

‘Nah, I’ve been..’ he trails off. Shit, he can’t tell her about the song yet, it’s too soon! He splutters for a moment, before continuing ‘…uhh, researching mangos. I was, um, reading up on that study you were talking about a while back. Yeah.’ Even Ben’s not convinced by what he’s saying. Although he did actually read that study, and is fully planning to continue debating the topic with Bea at a later date. A later date. A date. Huh, where would he take her on a date? They could go to a date farm for a date. That’d be funny. Wait, are dates farmed? Or maybe they could go to the movies and see that Sci Fi thing Bea’s been talking about, and then they can go for ice-cream after and argue about which flavour is the best…

Bea’s eyeing him skeptically, and he realises he’s just trailed off into silence and is now grinning dopily at the wall. Oops.

‘Ooo-kay…’ She gets up from the couch again and goes back to unstacking the dishwasher, looking a little unnerved. Ben decides to take the plunge. Well. A plunge. Not  _ the _ plunge. Whatever.

‘How was your day? Wait, do you need a hand with that, love?’

There’s a crash as Beatrice drops the mug she was holding.

_ Oops _ .

‘Uh, I mean, love to help!’ He bounces off the couch and grabs the brush and pan to clear up the shattered crockery. ‘But, uh, yeah. What’d you do?’

Bea tells him about meeting up with Pedro, although she’s still kind of side eyeing him, until Ben accidentally tips a bowlful of water on her foot. After that they lapse into easy banter. The rest of the afternoon passes without incident, except for Ben dropping a plate when he accidentally stares into Bea’s eyes for too long. Ahem.

He’d probably better tell her soon. They might run out of crockery otherwise.

*          *          *          *          *    

They’re all sitting in a park one lazy Saturday when Ben finally tells her.

‘Guys. Truth or dare?’

‘Truth or dare?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I...we’re not actually doing that are we?’

‘Why not?’

‘Because we’re not fourteen.’

‘I dunno though, I mean, everyone just cheats! You pick truth, and then you just tell a lie, it’s easy, easy way to circumvent it, right?’ 

‘Okay, Truth or Dare?’

Ben hesitates. He has the odd feeling that this is a trap.

‘Truth’

‘Everyone picks truth.’

Ben hums in agreement.

Pedro continues: ‘What’s this then?’

And...oh. Oh bugger. He’s gesturing between Ben and Bea. It  _ was _ a trap.

_ Deflect!!! _

Everyone else is chiming in, even Balthazar (traitorous perfect Disney Prince!). He and Bea are struggling and stalling but he’s about to change the topic when Meg asks Bea ‘Do you like him?’

‘Ummmmm….I don’t like him any more than is necessary.’

‘Okay, no, same. Nah. Not at all. Don’t like her a bit.’ His heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest.

‘That’s why there’s this video on Youtube.’

_ What video on Youtube?!?!?!? _

‘What video on Youtube?’

_ No no no noooo no. No. _

Claud gives his phone to Bea, and Ben feels his stomach drop. Oh crap, it’s _that_ video. Granted, he was planning to show it to her _at_ _some point_ but right now is not the moment for such logic. Right now is the moment for blind panic.

Aaaand Claud is now telling her about how he took 6 hours to film it with Balthazar. Right, Claud is officially struck off the best friends, potential future best men list. Bea is watching it and laughing and the only thing preventing Ben from dying of mortification is the fact that he’s distracted by Bea’s wide grin.

(Surely no-one can blame him for that; she’s fucking radiant.)

*        *        *        *        *

‘Okay, Beatrice. So, what you’re saying is you don’t feel the same way?’ Hero sounds uncharacteristically devious. I must be a bad day when both Balthazar-Disney-Prince-Jones and Hero-Practically-Perfect-In-Every-Way-Duke are turning against him and Bea.

‘Nope.’

‘Not at all?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Okay. Well, Beatrice, what about this?’

‘Wait is that…?’

‘About what?’ Ben doesn’t know what’s happening, but he’s pretty sure it’s about to get interesting.

‘She’s got my phone!’

‘Yeah, I know she’s got your phone, but it’s what she’s got  _ on _ your phone that I’m interested in. Right, pass it over the top!’ Bea is trying to block Hero, but Hero lives up to her name and (heroically) succeeds in passing the phone over to Ben.

Bea is panicking, and he might be in love, but he’s not above gloating internally that he’s not the only one being tormented here. She deserves it for laughing at his rapping efforts. Besides, the best thing about being in love with Beatrice is that both of them express their love almost entirely in snark. It’s magnificent.

Speaking of magnificent, he watches the video.

_ Aw yeah! _

‘I had no idea you felt this way?!’

Beatrice’s silence is disdainful. Or possibly scathing. It’s a bit hard concentrate enough to tell the difference because Ben is mentally doing the most victorious victory dance ever to dance.

‘Since you are clearly so in love with me, and you look like you’re dying without me, actually, it’d be wrong of me not to go along with it. ’

‘No, but what I’m saying is, so, you can’t say that to me because I am saying the same thing to you.’ Beatrice seems to think that if she can form a long enough sentence, Ben will forget what she’s talking about. He refuses to be sidetracked.

‘So you do love me?’

‘No.’

‘You love me with all your heart. I’m babelicious. I have da booty.’

‘Oh god. I feel like you’re twisting my words.’

‘No, no. You said all those things there. Or you were thinking it anyway.’ 

‘I would just like to say on record, I was really sick and I had a fever, and so obviously the things I was saying weren’t true to what I…’

‘Beatrice?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Shut up.’ He kisses her.

Perhaps, if he hadn’t been otherwise preoccupied, he might have noticed Pedro rolling his eyes, or Claud muttering ‘Fucking finally!’


End file.
